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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28391367">Impish Roommates Part 1</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeaconBrews/pseuds/DeaconBrews'>DeaconBrews</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Impish Roommates [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Helluva Boss (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Comfort, Demon/Human Relationships, Demons, Developing Friendships, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hanging Out, Millie and Moxxie Are A Cute Couple, Slice of Life, imp</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:00:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,641</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28391367</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeaconBrews/pseuds/DeaconBrews</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An ongoing slice-of-life story about what happens after Millie and Moxxie discover a natural portal between Hell and the living world, in your basement of all places, and decide to use it to to get away from the clamor of their everyday lives once in a while.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Millie/Moxxie (Helluva Boss)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Impish Roommates [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2151906</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There's something in your house with you. Something not of this Earth.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>&gt;The whole situation was ironic<br/>
&gt;Or maybe just a tragic coincidence<br/>
&gt;Or something</p><p>&gt;You had a reputation among your friends as the guy who always ruined haunted house movies<br/>
&gt;Always ready to point out the numerous points at which "any reasonable person" would have abandoned the VERY obviously supernaturally-tainted property they were living in<br/>
&gt;Piles of creepy stuff lying around from the previous owner? Might be time to leave.<br/>
&gt;Creepy symbols on the walls under the original paint? Time to leave.<br/>
&gt;Hearing voices when you're alone? Time to leave.<br/>
&gt;Seeing strange creatures skulking around in the corners of your vision?<br/>
&gt;Definitely<br/>
&gt;Time<br/>
&gt;To<br/>
&gt;Leave<br/>
&gt;Even if you didn't believe in the paranormal, if you had two brain cells to rub together, you'd realize that seeing such things meant you belonged in a mental hospital under the watch of nurses, not alone in an empty house</p><p>&gt;And yet, here you were<br/>
&gt;In spite of the heaps of weird, occultish objects and animal skeltons you'd found when you'd started trying to renovate the earthen-floored basement into a proper room<br/>
&gt;In spite of the persistent feeling that something was off about this place<br/>
&gt;In spite of the constant sense that someone or something was...coming for you<br/>
&gt;Here you were, ready to scream for help, but somehow unable to<br/>
&gt;All because the rent on this humble home out here in the boonies was nearly one third of what an apartment downtown would have cost<br/>
&gt;Because you decided that another fifteen minutes on your commute was worth all the extra cash you'd have on hand<br/>
&gt;Because you decided that having a decent sized living room and your own garage beat the hell out of the sardine can-sized places that dominated the local real estate market<br/>
&gt;Here you were, in front of the computer, hands in the air, with the barrel of a gun against the back of your head</p><p>-</p><p>&gt;"Now listen..."</p><p>&gt;The thing holding you at gunpoint finally speaks</p><p>&gt;"...I just want to be clear that this is nothing personal."</p><p>&gt;You feel the muzzle press tighter against you</p><p>&gt;"It's just that our business is sort of built around having pretty exclusive access to portals between Hell and The Living World"</p><p>&gt;Hell?<br/>
&gt;HELL?</p><p>&gt;"So I'm sure you understand that we really can't have anyone else messing around with them."<br/>
&gt;"You know, if the technique becomes common knowledge then suddenly we-"</p><p>&gt;An erotic moan from the computer interrupts the creature<br/>
&gt;The porno you'd been watching had been at a relatively quiet part when the two creatures had crept into your darkened room. Now it was getting back underway.</p><p>&gt;"Oh..."</p><p>&gt;The pressure of the muzzle on your head lightens as the gun's wielder looms over your shoulder to look at the shameful display on your monitor and the pair of pants pooled around your ankles<br/>
&gt;You can almost seem him at the edge of your field of vision, but you don't dare risk turning your head to look at him</p><p>&gt;"Oh you were right in the middle of..."</p><p>&gt;The creature leaves your side and moves back to his compatriot<br/>
&gt;You hear movement and whispers, but you're still too afraid to turn around<br/>
&gt;As the porn actors on the screen continue to ply their trade, growing more and more vocal all the time, you almost wish they'd hurry up and kill you<br/>
&gt;Dying in the midst of masturbation was already close to the very bottom of your list of ways you wanted it all to end, but dragging out your humiliation like this...</p><p>&gt;*Ahem*</p><p>&gt;The other creature now speaks, with a feminine voice</p><p>&gt;"So, you can...go ahead and finish first sweetheart."</p><p>&gt;The first creature quickly chimes in</p><p>&gt;"There's really no reason we can't let you go out on your feet, fully dressed. We're not monsters."</p><p>&gt;You're at a loss for how to respond<br/>
&gt;Your murderers are going to step on the brakes just so you can rub one last load out?<br/>
&gt;Knee-jellying fear drains away just enough to make room for a thimbleful of suspicion<br/>
&gt;Was this some kind of a prank?<br/>
&gt;You scrape together the courage to swivel in your seat and face the invaders, but you're too late and catch only the barest glimpse of them as they dart through the door and swing it shut</p><p>&gt;"We can give you twenty minutes"</p><p>-</p><p>&gt;The door slams<br/>
&gt;Twenty minutes<br/>
&gt;Twenty minutes to wax your puppet before going to the big sleep<br/>
&gt;Yeah right<br/>
&gt;Twenty minutes to figure out how to get out of here alive instead of taking up the harp<br/>
&gt;You hike your pants back up and bolt to the window, pull back the curtains and-<br/>
&gt;Shit<br/>
&gt;You forgot, there are bars on all the windows here<br/>
&gt;The area had spent a few years going downhill before the population trickled away entirely in a slow-motion mass migration<br/>
&gt;You're sure that at the time, slapping bars on everything had made perfect sense to the landlord<br/>
&gt;The service was cheap, and for a one-time fee they could start advertising their property as "burglar-proof"<br/>
&gt;You still curse them viciously</p><p>&gt;You dart back to the desk and rifle through the drawers<br/>
&gt;Nothing<br/>
&gt;No screwdriver to dismantle the bars, no blade to defend yourself with<br/>
&gt;No tools or weapons of any sort to be found outside of an unusually stiff metric ruler<br/>
&gt;You were still new to the house. The sort of always-there odds and ends that one usually took for granted hadn't quite accumulated in your life yet.<br/>
&gt;You turn and survey the room<br/>
&gt;A Die Hard move is out of the question, no one actually makes ventilation shafts big enough to fit a person in them anymore<br/>
&gt;The one in here is too small even for a cat<br/>
&gt;Even though this place is "just" drywall and stucco, you're not going to get away with trying to put a hole in the wall<br/>
&gt;They'll hear you immediately, and be cutting loose with that weapon a second after<br/>
&gt;There really isn't anything you can do to save yourself<br/>
&gt;Not with them waiting outside the only exit<br/>
&gt;You're trapped</p><p>&gt;You sit back down at your desk<br/>
&gt;The porn video is still rolling<br/>
&gt;You slap the pause button in annoyance<br/>
&gt;What in the fuck were they thinking, giving you a grace period to jerk off?<br/>
&gt;There's NOTHING less erotic than contemplating the immediacy and inevitability of your own death<br/>
&gt;It just wasn't going to happen<br/>
&gt;...<br/>
&gt;So what should you do with the remaining...fifteen or so minutes? Ten minutes?<br/>
&gt;You're not actually sure how long its been since the timer on your life started ticking away<br/>
&gt;You drum your fingers on the expanse of cheap particle board before you and think<br/>
&gt;A strange sort of placid clarity drapes itself over your mind, smothering the anguish and fear raging there with an icy serenity<br/>
&gt;Escape wasn't going to happen<br/>
&gt;One last moment of gross self-gratification most certainly wasn't going to happen<br/>
&gt;You consider trying to type up a quick will, or perhaps a farewell letter to all you're leaving behind<br/>
&gt;But whatever the exact time frame is at this point, you doubt you have long enough to do anything with the former that the court system couldn't hash out on its own anyway, or to properly articulate anything truly worth reading on the latter<br/>
&gt;No, neither one of those was worth the last-minute fuss it would be<br/>
&gt;...<br/>
&gt;Perhaps it would just be better to scrub this little reprieve you've been granted and get it over with<br/>
&gt;You push yourself away from the desk and slowly make your way to the door.</p><p>&gt;You start to hesitate as your hand comes to rest on the doorknob, but you force yourself to turn it before you let nerves get the better of you<br/>
&gt;You just barely hear the last murmurs of a hushed conversation as you step out into the hall<br/>
&gt;Scattered moonlight from the adjacent rooms is the only illumination, making it difficult for you to discern your assassins<br/>
&gt;You can just barely make out a silhouette. Humanoid, but with legs that bent the other way. And a rather impressive set of horns.<br/>
&gt;Another, off to the first's side. Wider hips and slimmer horns.<br/>
&gt;Two pairs of amber-yellow eyes abruptly fix on you, and you spot a pair of slender tails flicking about with agitation<br/>
&gt;More striking however, is their size<br/>
&gt;Diminutive<br/>
&gt;Even with the horns, each of them just barely comes up to your chin in height<br/>
&gt;You might even be tempted to call them cute<br/>
&gt;If you didn't also see the outline of a handgun leveled at your head</p><p>&gt;There's a long pause as you stare each other down<br/>
&gt;The one with the smaller horns is the first to break the silence</p><p>&gt;"...you still have time you know."</p><p>&gt;You confirm as much and quietly declare that you figure it's better to just wrap this up rather than agonize over it<br/>
&gt;The two glance at each other. You can feel their discomfort.<br/>
&gt;The gun barrel dips down toward the floor</p><p>&gt;"We've been talking actually. Maybe we could find some way to settle this peacefully. Like, say-"</p><p>&gt;The other one suddenly interjects</p><p>&gt;"Just tell us how you did it and we can call it even!"</p><p>&gt;The former seems taken aback for a moment, but suddenly becomes quite enthusiastic</p><p>&gt;"Yes, yes, of course. Just tell us how a mortal managed to open a portal between worlds and we can let you go."</p><p>&gt;Hope starts to push up through the gallows-calm that had taken over<br/>
&gt;Maybe you could somehow walk away from this in once piece after all<br/>
&gt;But then, would they even believe you when you told them you didn't know the first thing about any "portals" that might be on the property?<br/>
&gt;Can't hurt to try</p><p>---</p><p>&gt;"So...all that stuff was just hidden there when you moved in? None of its yours?"</p><p>&gt;They sound strangely relieved by the news</p><p>&gt;"That'd explain why it's so gosh-darned unstable"</p><p>&gt;The other chips in to clarify</p><p>&gt;"It took a little work to make sure it would actually stay open. All those materials are downright ancient."</p><p>&gt;You nod and confirm that the array of strange objects that is apparently responsible for letting these...things...into your home was there when you bought the place<br/>
&gt;They could have belonged to the very first owner of the place, way back when it was first built.<br/>
&gt;From the thick coatings of rust and badly faded paint on some of them, you'd be willing to wager whoever originally put them there is long dead by now</p><p>&gt;"Well, that changes things!"</p><p>&gt;The one with the smaller horns suddenly seems quite chipper</p><p>&gt;"Yeah"</p><p>&gt;Her counterpart seems equally enthused</p><p>&gt;"If you're not trying anything funny up here then there's no need to make a big deal out of this."</p><p>&gt;The gun that's been trained on you all night long finally finds its way into its holster</p><p>&gt;"So since you're definitely no threat to us, and there's definitely no need to have you out of the picture..."</p><p>&gt;He almost sounds like he's trying to convince himself more than anyone else</p><p>&gt;"...How about we make you a deal?"</p><p>&gt;Worry creeps up on you.<br/>
&gt;A deal?<br/>
&gt;What sort of deal could they be trying to rope you into?</p><p>&gt;"I don't think I need to tell you that a portal between worlds is a pretty valuable thing"</p><p>&gt;His feminine counterpart is in agreement</p><p>&gt;"Seems like an awful waste to tear it down"</p><p>&gt;"Yeah, a real waste. So, what about this?"</p><p>&gt;He paces down the hall toward you, his partner at his side</p><p>&gt;"We'll let you off the hook"</p><p>&gt;"Naturally"</p><p>&gt;"And the portal can stay right where it is, as long as you let us use it"</p><p>&gt;"It'll have to be a secret of course, darlin'. You don't tell anyone and we won't either, promise."</p><p>&gt;"Sound fair?"</p><p>&gt;They both stop talking and let their offer hang in the air<br/>
&gt;You almost blurt out a 'sounds fair' right back without thinking; anything that will end this night of terror without bloodshed sounds good right now, but you catch yourself<br/>
&gt;They want to keep this portal you supposedly have kicking around in the basement?<br/>
&gt;And 'use it' regularly?<br/>
&gt;What purpose could they possibly have for a wormhole leading directly into your house?<br/>
&gt;At this distance, you can just make out the two smiles that appear beneath the tawny glow of their eyes<br/>
&gt;One, a fairly human looking gap-toothed grin. The other, a jawful of jagged, pearlescent blades.</p><p>&gt;"Vacation."</p><p>&gt;Vacation?<br/>
&gt;They both nod enthusiastically</p><p>&gt;"We'd like to get away from it all once in a while, same as anyone else. Having our own portal would be handy. Cheap, quick, and private."</p><p>&gt;A clawed hand extends toward you and you feel fear grip you once again</p><p>&gt;"We won't use it for business, ever, I swear"</p><p>&gt;The claws spread apart, and you realize he's just trying to shake hands</p><p>&gt;"Do we have a deal?"</p><p>&gt;He sounds hopeful, almost pleading<br/>
&gt;You consider trying to finagle your way into never seeing either of these creatures again, but that handgun and that razor edge-filled smile make you doubt that you're in the position to engage in any hard bargaining<br/>
&gt;Best to just not piss them off and hope for the best<br/>
&gt;You agree to the little creature's terms and reach out to take his hand<br/>
&gt;For some reason, you were expecting pain. Those claws look lethal.<br/>
&gt;Instead, his grip is gentle and warm.</p><p>&gt;"Fantastic."</p><p>&gt;Both of their tails wag. Somehow you can tell that its with delight this time, not nervousness.<br/>
&gt;The duo retreats a few steps, bouncing on their tip...toes? No, on the tips of their cloven hooves.</p><p>&gt;"We'll be in touch. Have a good night."</p><p>&gt;With that, they dart away from you, toward the basement.<br/>
&gt;They're inhumanely fleet-footed. Gone in the blink of an eye, and you hear the basement door creak open and slam shut before you've even rounded the corner to watch them leave.<br/>
&gt;You race down the hall and all but fall down the stairs<br/>
&gt;There's nothing down there<br/>
&gt;Not a single trace of any gun-toting monster from some other world to be found<br/>
&gt;You turn and make your way back upstairs<br/>
&gt;Terrified relief washes over you like a tidal wave. It's almost more than you can stand. Your movements require careful focus to keep from falling over.<br/>
&gt;The shakes grow stronger with each step you take. By the time you're back in the hall you're quivering like a newborn puppy.</p><p>&gt;What in God's name just happened to you?<br/>
&gt;Was it even real, or have you abruptly dropped off the deep end?<br/>
&gt;You stagger into the kitchen on wobbly legs, open the cabinet in the corner with a clatter, and retrieve a bottle of whiskey<br/>
&gt;You pour yourself a double<br/>
&gt;Then a triple<br/>
&gt;You fire up the TV and put on a comedy, with the volume cranked up as loud as it goes<br/>
&gt;You begin drinking straight from the bottle. Your hands are shaking too badly to get the liquor into a glass without making a mess.<br/>
&gt;This wasn't real. It can't have been.<br/>
&gt;It was all just a fever dream from an over stressed mind<br/>
&gt;There's no such thing as Hell, no such thing as demons, and certainly no such thing as a portal that could drop them in your lap without notice<br/>
&gt;You'll take a sick day. You'll sleep late. You'll schedule an appointment with someone who can give you some pills that will rid you of these ludicrous visions.<br/>
&gt;Everything will be okay.<br/>
&gt;You blackout with your fingers still curled around the neck of the bottle</p><p>-</p><p>&gt;It's the titter of songbirds that first begins to rouse you, it's the weekend, and you have no alarm set.<br/>
&gt;You come lurching back to consciousness with a strangled gasp as memory returns<br/>
&gt;What an awful nightmare you had last night<br/>
&gt;Embarrassment, followed by fear. You remember bargaining for your life with some sort of shadowy presence...<br/>
&gt;No wonder there was a half empty bottle and a rerun of an old sitcom in front of you</p><p>&gt;You rise and down a glass of water as quickly as you can pour it<br/>
&gt;The nightmare had all been so vivid, so real.<br/>
&gt;Real enough that you just have to take a thorough look around the place to make sure you're really safe, ridiculous an idea as it may be<br/>
&gt;Everything looks the same as always<br/>
&gt;Of course it does, it was all just a bad dream, nothing to worry about<br/>
&gt;You down another glass of water, then busy yourself getting the coffee maker going<br/>
&gt;A laugh rises out of you, though even you're not sure if its forced or genuine<br/>
&gt;Low-grade cabin fever. That had to be it.<br/>
&gt;You'd spent a little too much time indoors and it had thrown you off-kilter. That was all.<br/>
&gt;A day out would square you away. Take a walk, see a movie, stop by the grocery store and get yourself something fresh for dinner.<br/>
&gt;You'll feel better soon enough.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You return home after a pleasant day out. That nightmare about "demons" and whatnot from last night couldn't keep you down for long. After all, it was nothing but a bad dream, right?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>&gt;You return with the setting sun glowing in your rear-view mirrors and a haul of fresh groceries in the back seat<br/>&gt;You're practically a different person from the confused, frightened, and slightly hungover slug who left the house this morning<br/>&gt;Fresh air was just what you needed<br/>&gt;Your head is clear now, your mood much improved.<br/>&gt;Better still, you're treating yourself to a proper meal instead of the working bachelor fare that usually keeps your tank fueled<br/>&gt;Dried pasta and canned soup propped up with vitamin tablets certainly can't have helped whatever it was that happened in your head to lead to that dreadful dream<br/>&gt;Some real food eaten in a well lit room instead of in front of the computer would do wonders<br/>&gt;...if you could get all this into the refrigerator<br/>&gt;Why can't you make room for these things?<br/>&gt;You'd certainly overbought a bit, but the fridge seems far more cluttered than you remember it being...<br/>&gt;Actually, what IS all of this stuff in here taking up room for your groceries?<br/>&gt;A tupperware full of fruit salad<br/>&gt;Not one of your tupperwares, and you don't recall making any fruit salad<br/>&gt;Another, also not yours, with sesame noodles in one compartment and what looked to be chicken in the other, two things you hadn't made recently either</p><p>&gt;You straighten up and look around<br/>&gt;This IS your house isn't it?<br/>&gt;Yes, definitely.<br/>&gt;All your stuff is here. Your furniture, your photos, your cheap rug that you bought to cover that ugly stain<br/>&gt;So whose food is this filling the fridge?<br/>&gt;You kneel back down and start looking over the fridge's contents again<br/>&gt;A torpedo sandwich, still in the red and white waxed paper wrapper from the deli<br/>&gt;'PECCATI DI GOLA - Imp City's Favorite For Over 300 Years!'<br/>&gt;You turn it over in your hands and see a name written in magic marker on the other side<br/>&gt;"Moxxie"</p><p>&gt;Down the hall, you hear the basement door open</p><p>&gt;"Hey Millie? Can I grab you for a minute?"</p><p>&gt;You shudder<br/>&gt;You know that voice</p><p>&gt;"Sure Sweetie, be down in a sec!"</p><p>&gt;And that one</p><p>&gt;You abandon your food and start looking for a place to hide</p><p>&gt;"I'm-oh hey you!"</p><p>&gt;Too late<br/>&gt;The owner of that feminine voice from last night rounds the corner and spots you before you can find cover<br/>&gt;She matches the silhouette you remember, though now in the light of day you can see crimson skin mottled with stray patches of white peaking out from the deliberately placed tears in her all-black outfit<br/>&gt;Charcoal-colored hair, thin white bands striping her onyx horns, and a heart tattoo on one arm that matches the hue of her clothes<br/>&gt;She smiles that same gap-toothed smile at you, then turns<br/>&gt;She brings a hand up next to her mouth and calls out down the hall</p><p>&gt;"Moxxie! Whatshisname is back!"</p><p>&gt;"Oh! Hold on, I'll be right up."</p><p>&gt;Their tone of voice indicates that they're far happier to see you than you are them</p><p>&gt;'Millie', as she is evidently called, draws closer while you stew in idle panic waiting for 'Moxxie' to make his appearance<br/>&gt;It was real...<br/>&gt;...IT WAS REAL!<br/>&gt;ALL OF IT!<br/>&gt;THERE ARE DEMONS IN YOUR FUCKING HOUSE!<br/>&gt;ACTUAL DEMONS!<br/>&gt;FROM HELL!</p><p>&gt;"...lo? Hello? Anyone home?"</p><p>&gt;You hear someone snapping their fingers next to your ear and shake yourself back to reality<br/>&gt;Moxxie looks up at you quizzically, a slightly concerned smile on his face</p><p>&gt;"You alright?"</p><p>&gt;You meet his gaze<br/>&gt;He's certainly got the same stature as the thing you saw last night<br/>&gt;But now you can see that the white patches of his skin form a pattern almost like human freckles on his cheeks<br/>&gt;Less human is the spade-tipped tail, adorned with a pair of black rings<br/>&gt;And of course the horns, with thicker bands than Millie's<br/>&gt;He's wearing a frocktailed coat, and a bow tie that's a bit on the large side for him<br/>&gt;As if both of those things hadn't fallen out of fashion ages ago<br/>&gt;Now that you see him clearly, he's perhaps a bit less threatening than he was last night, claws and fangs notwithstanding<br/>&gt;He repeats himself</p><p>&gt;"You alright?"</p><p>&gt;You find yourself blurting out an answer in the affirmative, too shocked to do anything else</p><p>&gt;"Miles away eh?"</p><p>&gt;The demons both chuckle<br/>&gt;It's infectious</p><p>&gt;"Oh, the empty bedroom at the other end of the hall IS the guest room right? We kind of just assumed..."</p><p>&gt;You nod passively</p><p>&gt;"Okay, great."</p><p>&gt;Moxxie gestures idly toward the basement</p><p>&gt;"Anyway, since you're here, could you give us a hand with our bags? There's only a few of them."</p><p>&gt;You nod again and shuffle along in his wake, still dazed<br/>&gt;Getting a roommate was something you'd been considering for a while now<br/>&gt;But this was NOT what you'd had in mind</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You spend an evening puttering around the kitchen with the two demonic murderers who have taken up part time residence in your home</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>&gt;"Gosh darn it, HOLD STILL, Sweetie."</p><p>&gt;Millie allows the barest hint of annoyance to flavor the amusement in her voice</p><p>&gt;"I'm tryyying but this really hurts!"</p><p>&gt;Moxxie continues biting down on his bottom lip as his wife tries to get an ice pack strapped to him<br/>&gt;He'd done something to his leg at work earlier</p><p>&gt;Yeah, right...<br/>&gt;Their """"Work""""<br/>&gt;As assassins<br/>&gt;Or rather<br/>&gt;"Murder Professionals"<br/>&gt;It was...perhaps a bit unnerving, how comfortable they were with that title<br/>&gt;You'd initially tried to be considerate about how you spoke of their occupation, but it hadn't taken them long to correct you</p><p>-</p><p>&gt;"You humans are so funny with all the euphemisms you think up for everything."<br/>&gt;"We're not 'hitmen', or 'contract men', or 'cleaners' or 'plumbers' or 'mechanics'..."</p><p>&gt;Millie had rolled her eyes as she continued to rattle off the many ostensibly-more-tasteful synonyms humanity had come up with for her profession</p><p>&gt;"...or anything else."<br/>&gt;"We. Are. Murderers."</p><p>&gt;One eyebrow had been cocked and one corner of her mouth had risen smugly as she regarded the shock her declaration had wrought on you</p><p>&gt;"That's what you can call us."</p><p>-</p><p>&gt;And so you did, though as time went on you found yourself forgetting the subject entirely more often than not<br/>&gt;In spite of how you'd met<br/>&gt;The fact that your first exchange of words had been at gunpoint, with the intent of ending the evening by repainting the room with your brains<br/>&gt;You actually found it HARDER to buy them as cold-blooded killers as the weeks wore on<br/>&gt;They were simply too well-behaved. Model houseguests even<br/>&gt;Cleaning up after themselves without fail, leaving your groceries and such untouched, completely respectful of your privacy<br/>&gt;Hell, they hadn't even set foot in your room since you'd first agreed to their terms<br/>&gt;To top it off, they were an irritatingly cute couple<br/>&gt;Openly affectionate without being lascivious<br/>&gt;Each so eager to spare the other any labor that any chore could spark a good natured debate over who got to do it<br/>&gt;Then of course, the crown jewel: the singing<br/>&gt;Moxxie had enjoyed a successful enough musical career "once upon a time", and he still knew his way around six strings<br/>&gt;Many were the times you'd come home from work or errands to find him singing love songs to Millie, and her singing right along with him<br/>&gt;It was so sweet it almost made your teeth ache</p><p>-</p><p>&gt;"And...there...we...go!"</p><p>&gt;"Ooch, be careful there!"</p><p>&gt;"Oh hush ya big baby"</p><p>&gt;Millie reaches over to playfully pinch the bridge of her husband's nose</p><p>&gt;"Now you STAY off that leg until the swelling goes down. I don't care if it was your turn to make dinner."</p><p>&gt;Moxxie pouts a little, prompting a smile to start tugging at the corners of your mouth, but stays where he is<br/>&gt;You feel a tap on your shoulder<br/>&gt;Somewhat disorienting, since neither Millie nor Moxxie are close enough to reach you<br/>&gt;You turn and realize Millie reached up with her tail<br/>&gt;You keep forgetting they have those</p><p>&gt;"Speaking of dinner, I don't suppose I could trouble ya for a little help?"</p><p>&gt;Millie clasps her hands in front of her and fidgets slightly, a tentatively hopeful look on her features<br/>&gt;You shrug and nod<br/>&gt;Not like you have anything better to do with your evening<br/>&gt;Millie makes a happy noise and leads the way into the kitchen<br/>&gt;She loops her tail around the step stool they use to make access to the countertops and stove easier and slings it along with her<br/>&gt;Part of you is actually a little jealous of them and their extra appendages<br/>&gt;Nearly as long as they are tall, and fully articulate<br/>&gt;Like having an extra hand almost<br/>&gt;They gestured with their tails at least as often as they did with their hands, and would regularly use them to carry stuff<br/>&gt;Or for hugging<br/>&gt;Good lord, the kind of hugs they gave each other with those things...</p><p>&gt;Millie slides a knife out of the block and points over to the stove</p><p>&gt;"You get a pot of water boiling Darlin'? We're havin' chicken noodle."</p><p>&gt;You nod and fish the big blue enameled one out of the cabinet as the rapidfire rattle of knife-against-cutting board fills the room<br/>&gt;Damn she was handy with that thing, rendering whole vegetables into dice faster than the highest paid TV chef<br/>&gt;You consider making a polite inquiry after the origin of her skills, but stop yourself just as you open your mouth<br/>&gt;It might be better to stay in the dark about why she was so mercilessly effective with a knife<br/>&gt;Seems unlikely that its because she went to culinary school</p><p>-</p><p>&gt;The lid of the pot clacks and sputters out a few puffs of steam, prompting Millie to set down her "Hellphone" (someone down there has an absolutely awful sense of humor) and sashay over, spoon in hand</p><p>&gt;"Smells about done to me~"</p><p>&gt;The cloud of steam billowing up as she plucks the lid off does indeed whet your appetite as you inhale<br/>&gt;You're rather impressed, especially given how seemingly simple her recipe is.<br/>&gt;Millie serves her immobilized husband first, ladling off a generous portion and tossing a handful of the parsley she'd previously reduced to confetti over it before bringing it out to Moxxie's place in the living room<br/>&gt;She skips back into the kitchen a moment later and retrieves a bowl for herself<br/>&gt;Then another</p><p>&gt;"You joining us Darlin'? Only seems fair."</p><p>&gt;It somehow hadn't occurred to you, but yeah, you are kind of owed a bowl of soup after putting in half the work to make it<br/>&gt;You nod and she shines a smile at you before fixing two more dishes<br/>&gt;You accept yours gratefully, holding it with care to keep from spilling. You haven't had a taste yet, but it looks good enough that it would feel almost criminal to waste even a drop.<br/>&gt;You're so focused on your food that what happens next catches you totally off guard</p><p>&gt;You stifle a yelp and tighten your grip on the bowl as you suddenly feel yourself pulled ever-so-slightly off balance</p><p>&gt;"Thanks for the hand Hon"</p><p>&gt;Millie's decided to reward you with a hug<br/>&gt;A quick one, just one arm around your waist, her other already occupied with holding her bowl out and away from her<br/>&gt;A classic 'awkward side hug' really<br/>&gt;If her tail hadn't decided to get involved, that is<br/>&gt;The brief moment it spends wound up around you leaves you feeling like you just got a full-body bear hug<br/>&gt;For some reason you feel a blush creep up on you, but you manage to assure her that it was no trouble at all without stuttering<br/>&gt;As you pass him, Moxxie also reaches out to give your free hand an affectionate squeeze</p><p>&gt;"Yeah, thanks"</p><p>&gt;Your blush deepens and you hasten to your seat, hoping the soft evening light is dim enough that they won't notice<br/>&gt;If they do, they're at least kind enough to play dumb<br/>&gt;Millie settles in next to Moxxie and gives his hair a quick ruffle before they both tuck in to their meal<br/>&gt;Perhaps it's just your own wishful thinking, but their eyes seem to remain politely focused on their food, not on you<br/>&gt;Whatever random junk was on the TV ends soon enough after your cheeks have cooled off and your soup bowl has thinned out<br/>&gt;You gesture at them with the remote and they both perk up and ready their hands to catch the device as you send it their way with an underhand toss<br/>&gt;Despite his rather disadvantageous position, Moxxie manages to intercept it from Millie</p><p>&gt;"My turn~"</p><p>&gt;The imp proudly declares his victory and begins clicking his way to one of the dense, tedious music documentaries he favors<br/>&gt;His wife feigns the despair of defeat with an overexaggerated groan, she's more one for bombastic, bullet-riddled action movies or sword-and-sandal flicks featuring plenty of sweaty, shirtless men<br/>&gt;The show begins rolling and it doesn't take you long to realize it's going to put you to sleep, especially with the weight of a full belly already tugging on your eyelids<br/>&gt;Not really a big deal, they don't seem to mind napping right in front of you<br/>&gt;Still, you feel it would be nice to at least feign a polite interest<br/>&gt;After all, they're happy enough to endure whatever it is you want to watch without complaint, despite a recent track record of movies that 'looked really interesting' revealing themselves to be total lemons halfway through the second act<br/>&gt;You manage it well enough for the most part, but your seat is only getting more and more comfortable and the narrator's voice sounds ever closer to soothing white noise</p><p>---</p><p>&gt;It isn't the TV, but rather the lack thereof, that makes you realize you dozed off<br/>&gt;The sudden change in ambient noise as your roommates turned off the idiot box was enough to jar you just-barely awake<br/>&gt;Meh<br/>&gt;No matter<br/>&gt;You don't even bother to open your eyes and try to let slumber reclaim you<br/>&gt;Suddenly, you hear whispers close to you<br/>&gt;You feel the touch of cloth as a quilt is draped over you<br/>&gt;Millie and Moxxie think you're still asleep<br/>&gt;You feel someone's fingers run ever-so-lightly through your hair<br/>&gt;A tiny whisper, scarcely any louder than whatever they were saying before, greets your ears</p><p>&gt;"Goodnight~"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Millie and Moxxie are back, fresh from work. Before now, you hadn't really grasped the full consequences of what it is they do...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>&gt;You slap yourself in annoyance at your own forgetfulness<br/>
&gt;Returning from a quick walk to the convenience store on the corner to deposit your check, you can hear someone moving around in the garage<br/>
&gt;Your otherworldly roommates don't own a car<br/>
&gt;Only one reason for them to be in there: laundry<br/>
&gt;And you've still got a full load of clothes in the dryer<br/>
&gt;Which you gave a quick tumble just this morning so you could fold them without them getting wrinkled<br/>
&gt;And then forgot about once you started watching the news<br/>
&gt;Tumbled again once you remembered<br/>
&gt;Then forgotten again after you got distracted with making a sandwich</p><p>&gt;You absently throw your weight against the door to open it, a polite apology for having monopolized the machine on your lips and an assurance you'd free it up in a moment on deck<br/>
&gt;You stumble over your words almost immediately<br/>
&gt;Moxxie's on the ground, naked except for his briefs<br/>
&gt;You'd hardly describe yourself as a puritan, and it's not like there's anything too 'personal' exposed, but its now occurring to you that you've never seen him with so little on before</p><p>&gt;"Oop, careful there Darlin."</p><p>&gt;Millie pokes her head around the edge of the open door, evidently having just barely dodged getting bumped with it<br/>
&gt;She's in a similar state of undress to Moxxie<br/>
&gt;Neither seems to be perturbed about being seen with so much skin on display</p><p>&gt;"Caught us at kind of awkward moment, Chief."</p><p>&gt;He gestures at the ground in front of him, and you realize he has his outfit spread out on the floor before him in a small pinkish-red puddle that whiffs faintly of iron<br/>
&gt;At his side, a coarse brush and a bottle of Schweppes</p><p>&gt;"Things got a little out of hand at work today."</p><p>&gt;He resumes scrubbing at his coat, biting down on his tongue in concentration</p><p>&gt;"There's this great cleaner they make back home that we always use. Takes the red right out, but the store's been out of it the last two times we went."</p><p>&gt;He flips the garment over and begins scrubbing at another spot</p><p>&gt;"So I guess we're going to find out if that old line about club soda is true or not."</p><p>&gt;"It darn-well better be! That coat was your anniversary present!"</p><p>&gt;"I know, I know, I'm upset too. But come on, I like to think I can stay on my hooves, but how was I supposed to know he was going to wing a grenade at us?"<br/>
&gt;"A GRENADE for goodness' sake!"</p><p>&gt;Millie rolls her eyes</p><p>&gt;"Really, how stupid do you have to be to think that's an appropriate self-defense weapon in such a confined space?"</p><p>&gt;"Stupid enough to not even know how long the fuse was, I guess."</p><p>&gt;"Yeah, the thought that we'd just pick it up and throw it back clearly didn't even cross his mind before the shrapnel did."</p><p>&gt;Moxxie chuckles and looks up at you from his work</p><p>&gt;"How'd you like your last words to be 'Shit, I guess it was a dud', eh?"</p><p>&gt;You have to laugh<br/>
&gt;What an embarrassing way to go<br/>
&gt;Maybe even worse than getting capped in the midst of touching yourself</p><p>&gt;You flick the dial on the dryer to 'quick fluff', let it begin clattering away, and assure them that they'll have free reign over both machines very shortly<br/>
&gt;They murmur some quiet gratitude as they continue getting their stained clothes prepped for the wash as best they can<br/>
&gt;You exchange idle pleasantries for the next couple of minutes until the buzzer goes off and signals that your clothes are ready to be folded<br/>
&gt;You toss the warmed garments into a basket and toss a wave over your shoulder as you bring them back inside<br/>
&gt;You settle down and begin folding<br/>
&gt;Two pairs of pants...<br/>
&gt;Three pairs of socks...<br/>
&gt;A shirt that didn't quite have all the wrinkles worked out of it...<br/>
&gt;...Why are you suddenly feeling so anxious in the midst of such a boring chore?<br/>
&gt;Then it hits you<br/>
&gt;THEY'RE SCRUBBING A MURDER VICTIM'S BLOOD OUT OF THEIR CLOTHES AND GETTING IT ALL OVER YOUR GARAGE FLOOR.</p><p>&gt;You come lurching back into the garage like a freight train<br/>
&gt;What the everloving FUCK do they think they're doing?!<br/>
&gt;Do they not know what cops are?<br/>
&gt;Do they not know about investigators?<br/>
&gt;Have they never watched Forensic Files?<br/>
&gt;They're working hard evidence into every inch of the damn floor!<br/>
&gt;If anyone shows up to investigate the death of whoever it was they just killed, it's going to look like YOU'RE the one responsible!<br/>
&gt;They'll find traces of blood everywhere! They always do!<br/>
&gt;And what kind of alibi will you have?<br/>
&gt;That it wasn't you, it was the demons who came out of your basement that blew the stupid bastard to bits?!<br/>
&gt;Even if you somehow dodge the chair or a prison sentence, they'll throw you in a padded cell!</p><p>&gt;Moxxie leaps to his hooves and scrambles over toward his phone and wallet, sitting on top of the dryer, before you're even half-finished with your tirade<br/>
&gt;Both he and Millie babble over one another in a frantic mishmash about the nature of the job, but between your horrified anger and the cluttered way they're trying to talk to you, you're not getting much of substance<br/>
&gt;Eventually Moxxie clumsily shoves his phone into your hands<br/>
&gt;You look over the work email it's displaying<br/>
&gt;You heave a sigh of relief and slump against the wall, clutching at your frantically beating heart</p><p>&gt;Their target had been located on the other side of the planet<br/>
&gt;In a country that wasn't exactly known for its stability<br/>
&gt;It'd take quite a fantastic series of events for anyone to somehow tie whatever it is they just did back to you</p><p>&gt;You look back up at Millie and Moxxie<br/>
&gt;They're backed into a corner, clinging to each other<br/>
&gt;They have their tails tucked between their legs<br/>
&gt;They're trembling<br/>
&gt;Like a pair of puppies who just saw someone rolling up a newspaper<br/>
&gt;It hurts<br/>
&gt;Damn, IT HURTS to see them like that, wide-eyed with fear, staring down at the ground in expectation of an oncoming blow<br/>
&gt;The furied panic that had consumed you is quickly smothered by guilt</p><p>&gt;You're not a cruel person<br/>
&gt;Even if your worst fears had been true, you'd never have raised a hand against them.<br/>
&gt;You have to stop and take a deep breath, focusing on speaking as gently as you can<br/>
&gt;You call out their names<br/>
&gt;They flinch, but their yellow-tinted gaze rises up to meet yours<br/>
&gt;You softly apologize for shouting at them<br/>
&gt;And for assuming they were so clueless as to do something that would get you in trouble with the law<br/>
&gt;You assure them that you're not angry<br/>
&gt;You ask if they'll forgive you</p><p>&gt;It takes them a moment to reply<br/>
&gt;They look like they're still expecting a beating at any moment<br/>
&gt;They glance at each other, then back at you, and nod<br/>
&gt;You see them start to relax and take a step forward<br/>
&gt;You stoop down and wrap the both of them in a hug</p><p>&gt;They don't return it right away<br/>
&gt;They still feel tense<br/>
&gt;For a moment, you're worried that you've really screwed up here, and make to release them<br/>
&gt;Then you feel them leaning against you<br/>
&gt;Two pairs of arms carefully slip around you<br/>
&gt;A long, slender tail delicately curls around you, then another<br/>
&gt;One of them lets out a silent sigh of relief<br/>
&gt;You match it, and lean back into their embrace</p><p>&gt;The closeness doesn't bring a blush to your cheeks now<br/>
&gt;You're just happy to have cleared the air<br/>
&gt;It's dawning on you that you really value their good will</p><p>&gt;You part with them and look down<br/>
&gt;They're smiling at you now<br/>
&gt;It's the most wonderful sight you've seen all week</p><p>---</p><p>&gt;Okay, enough of this sappiness<br/>
&gt;Let's all just act normal again, shall we?<br/>
&gt;Is there anything PRACTICAL you could do to make it up to them?<br/>
&gt;The two demons both shift their smiles from warm and heartfelt to wicked and mischevious<br/>
&gt;Uh oh</p><p>&gt;"Weeeeelll there is one thing you could do. Wait here a minute."</p><p>&gt;Moxxie traipses out the door and returns a moment later brandishing a brightly colored little slip of paper</p><p>&gt;"So, someone slipped this through the mail slot the other day."</p><p>&gt;You notice Millie perk up and begin swishing her tail excitedly</p><p>&gt;"They have some great looking stuff. Really tasty sounding."<br/>
&gt;"We were talking about trying to get delivery one night."<br/>
&gt;"Buuuut..."<br/>
&gt;"We can't exactly be the ones to answer the door and pay for it."<br/>
&gt;"I'm pretty sure they don't take unholy money up here."<br/>
&gt;"Or infernal credit cards."<br/>
&gt;"Soooo, we'd kind of need someone else to handle that for us."</p><p>&gt;You unfold the delivery menu for "Green's Kitchen" and look over what they have on offer<br/>
&gt;Crispy Surf n Turf<br/>
&gt;Garlic Twists<br/>
&gt;Roasted Vegetable Medley<br/>
&gt;This all sounds perfectly edible<br/>
&gt;Maybe a stitch pricier than you'd usually order for yourself but...ahh what the heck?<br/>
&gt;You can stand to pick up dinner for one night<br/>
&gt;It'll be nice to let someone else do the cooking for a change anyway<br/>
&gt;You fish a pen out of your pocket and circle a few dishes that sound particularly appealing to you<br/>
&gt;Then you look up and ask them what they want<br/>
&gt;Their smiles widen</p><p>---</p><p>&gt;The trio of aggressive knocks at the door rouses the lot of you from your smartphone stupor<br/>
&gt;Millie is the first to flee the scene, darting away from the armchair and down around the corner<br/>
&gt;Moxxie follows after plugging his phone in<br/>
&gt;Somehow, even across different planes of existence, your chargers are compatible<br/>
&gt;There are probably some sort of deep, revelatory metaphysical implications to that, but you don't need to dwell on that right now<br/>
&gt;What you need is to get your ass up and answer the door, the delivery guy won't wait all night<br/>
&gt;You check over your shoulder to make sure Millie and Moxxie are hidden before you open up</p><p>&gt;"Evenin' Boss"</p><p>&gt;Good evening</p><p>&gt;"So you've got the uh..."</p><p>&gt;The delivery guy slips a copy of the receipt out of his pocket and reads it off, making sure he's got all that you ordered<br/>
&gt;You confirm that everything seems to be on the level and accept the double armful of parcels he pushes your way<br/>
&gt;You may have over-ordered a bit, but hey, that just means leftovers for lunch<br/>
&gt;With your arms full, you kick the door shut<br/>
&gt;Maybe a bit harder than you really meant to<br/>
&gt;Hopefully they don't take offense at that<br/>
&gt;The generous tip should at least soften the sharp crack of the door slamming shut</p><p>&gt;You head for the kitchen table and announce that the chow's on<br/>
&gt;Millie and Moxxie are out of their hiding place and on your heels in an instant<br/>
&gt;You lay out the styrofoam containers of food along the counter<br/>
&gt;It all smells heavenly<br/>
&gt;Before you've even gotten everything set up, you give in to temptation and quickly pluck out a morsel to pop in your mouth while the two imps have their backs turned<br/>
&gt;It takes you a hot minute to set out some plates, napkins, and utensils<br/>
&gt;When you turn back from the cabinets, you can't help but notice that both of them look suspiciously casual as they attempt to surreptitiously wipe their fingers<br/>
&gt;Seems they had the same idea<br/>
&gt;Cheeky little sneaks<br/>
&gt;You shoot a knowing smile their way and they each meet it with an overly innocent grin, their eyes on everything in the room except you</p><p>&gt;Alright, lets eat</p><p>&gt;You step off to the side and let your roommates have the first shake at the buffet<br/>
&gt;Millie swishes past you to grab a plate before proceeding over the array of savory dishes you've got lined up<br/>
&gt;As she passes, you feel her tail slide across your hips<br/>
&gt;Firmly<br/>
&gt;Deliberately</p><p>&gt;...what?</p><p>&gt;What just happened?</p><p>&gt;You're comfortable enough with being touched by the two imps but that was<br/>
&gt;Sort of<br/>
&gt;Different</p><p>&gt;Different from the hand clasps and hugs (even with the tails involved) that you've gotten used to<br/>
&gt;It was intimate, but casual, delivered without any real prompting or forewarning</p><p>&gt;You haven't had enough time to properly check and make sure that this is indeed still real life when you feel Moxxie's tail tracing down your leg as he strolls by<br/>
&gt;The same sort of touch<br/>
&gt;Purposeful, but executed with seemingly total indifference<br/>
&gt;Just like his wife, he didn't even look your way as he brushed his lightly striped tail over you, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do<br/>
&gt;Unlike a moment ago, neither of them is wearing the smirk of someone who just barely got away with misbehaving</p><p>&gt;So yeah, that just happened<br/>
&gt;Perhaps that's normal behavior for demons, and you hadn't realized?<br/>
&gt;You think you've seen them doing that to each other in the past, but it never really registered for you what it would be like to end up on the receiving end of a...tail stroke</p><p>&gt;The both of them are clearly oblivious to the loop they've just thrown you for<br/>
&gt;They just saunter out of the kitchen, too preoccupied with their feast to notice anything else<br/>
&gt;Okay then...<br/>
&gt;No need to try to read any further into this<br/>
&gt;If it's no big deal to them it's no big deal to you<br/>
&gt;Just set yourself up with a plate<br/>
&gt;With just one extra dumpling<br/>
&gt;You deserve it. After all, you did pay for the whole spread</p><p>&gt;With your meal ready to go you proceed out to the living room, where the two crimson demons are already tucking in<br/>
&gt;Millie managed to beat her husband to the remote this time around<br/>
&gt;She leans back in her seat, legs crossed, and nibbles at a bit of bread with one hand while she flicks though a list of action movies for rent with the other<br/>
&gt;Moxxie is beside her, leaning slightly over his plate, seemingly nonplussed to have ceded control of the remote<br/>
&gt;You settle down in your usual spot just as the opening credits give way to a the shouts, shots, and rock music of an overblown action scene</p><p>---</p><p>&gt;The traitor general adjusts his beret and cackles at the smoldering remains of the helicopter<br/>
&gt;"Where's your squad now, O'Mally?"<br/>
&gt;His face falls at the sound of a heavy metallic click from behind him<br/>
&gt;"I told them to take a lunch break..."<br/>
&gt;The hero, uniform shredded and face smeared with soot, but otherwise completely (and inexplicably) untouched by the explosion he just survived, rises into the frame<br/>
&gt;"...I've got this."<br/>
&gt;The villain barely has time to cry out before a bazooka blast sends him flying across the cheap set in a million flaming pieces<br/>
&gt;THE END</p><p>&gt;"Wow..."</p><p>&gt;Moxxie watches the closing credits begin to crawl up the screen, then turns to regard you, his mouth agape</p><p>&gt;"Someone actually GOT PAID to write that?"<br/>
&gt;"What are you guys DOING up here?"</p><p>&gt;Millie snickers and playfully pokes him in the side</p><p>&gt;"Aw c'mon Sweetie, it's fun!"</p><p>&gt;Moxxie rolls his eyes</p><p>&gt;"It's a bunch of nonsense is what it is"</p><p>&gt;The little crimson woman pounces on her husband and prompts a particularly laid-back wrestling match as she tries to ruffle his hair</p><p>&gt;"Awwww you're just a big ol' spoil-sport"</p><p>&gt;Moxxie gives in before long and lets her pin him down and run her fingers through his ivory locks</p><p>&gt;"Yeah, I suppose I am"</p><p>&gt;He smiles at her and leans in for a quick kiss</p><p>&gt;"But I'm your spoil-sport, right?"</p><p>&gt;"And dontchu forget it"</p><p>&gt;Millie snuggles up to Moxxie and nuzzles her cheek against his as their tails curl around each other in a loose double helix</p><p>&gt;Ugh<br/>
&gt;Good thing you didn't order dessert<br/>
&gt;Too much sugar in here already<br/>
&gt;You weigh your options<br/>
&gt;The two demons have become fully occupied with cuddling, so you could snatch up the remote and put on whatever you want<br/>
&gt;But...<br/>
&gt;Nah<br/>
&gt;It's getting late now, and you want to take a shower before you go to bed</p><p>&gt;You bid them goodnight<br/>
&gt;They bid you goodnight back<br/>
&gt;You rise from your seat and stroll off toward your room<br/>
&gt;Passing your roommates, you nearly jump as you once again feel a pair of long, slender imp tails trace over your, well, pretty much all of you</p><p>&gt;...okay</p><p>&gt;Apparently that's just something that happens all the time now</p><p>&gt;You'll have to get used to it</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You have a somewhat awkward conversation with your unholy roommates</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>&gt;You smile to yourself as you step through the door<br/>
&gt;You haven't seen Moxxie or Millie in a bit, they've been rather busy<br/>
&gt;But they must be home now, you spy the former's overcoat hanging on the rack<br/>
&gt;They're nowhere to be found in the house though<br/>
&gt;Next best option: the backyard</p><p>&gt;They'd been quite taken with it since they started staying with you, but only from afar<br/>
&gt;For obvious reasons, they'd been rather reluctant to leave the house or linger too close to any open windows for too long<br/>
&gt;A pair of 'monsters' roaming about at the edges of the suburbs was sure to draw all kinds of unwanted attention on the off chance they were spotted<br/>
&gt;It had taken a bit of convincing to get them to actually enter the area they'd been sighing wistfully over for days and days<br/>
&gt;The place is old enough that the hedges and trees are quite well developed, shielding almost the whole area from any prying eyes, few though they may be<br/>
&gt;They were delighted the first time they stepped outside<br/>
&gt;Though you still didn't quite grasp what part of Hell they dwelled in, having no frame of reference, it was clear from their descriptions that it was rather undervegetated<br/>
&gt;Green grass was a delight to them, as were trees that actually had leaves on them<br/>
&gt;The sight of the floral shrubberies that sat against one side of the place nearly moved Millie to tears</p><p>&gt;You'd actually been planning to tear those out<br/>
&gt;They were already here when you moved in, not exactly vigorous by your standards, and hadn't improved despite your best efforts<br/>
&gt;Can't get rid of them now though<br/>
&gt;That's actually where they're sitting right now, on the patio furniture right next to the planter</p><p>&gt;You announce your arrival and join them at the table<br/>
&gt;Millie's tail immediately curls around your leg<br/>
&gt;That kind of touch has somehow become the norm, and you're too polite to wonder aloud about it<br/>
&gt;Besides, it's not as though it's unpleasant<br/>
&gt;A quick squeeze of the hand from her husband balances out the act before he releases you and they both return to their tasks</p><p>&gt;Millie has an assortment of blades and cudgels arranged in front of her, sharpening, cleaning, polishing, and binding with the casual air of experience<br/>
&gt;Moxxie is likewise occupied with some off-the-clock work, with half of one of his rifles resting in his lap and the rest of it laid out in pieces on the table before him</p><p>&gt;"Afternoon Darlin'~"</p><p>&gt;Millie greets you while Moxxie simply gives an absent nod as he begins plunging a cleaning brush down the barrel of his weapon<br/>
&gt;Watching the two of them fuss over their arsenal brings a certain thought back to the forefront of your mind<br/>
&gt;You open your mouth to ask a question that's been niggling at you for a while<br/>
&gt;Then you clam up before it can make it out<br/>
&gt;It's too late though, they both noticed you on the cusp of speaking</p><p>&gt;"Something on your mind Chief?"</p><p>&gt;Moxxie sets his oil-stained cleaning cloth aside and looks at you expectantly<br/>
&gt;Millie puts her whetstone down and fixes you with the same look</p><p>&gt;Oh jeez<br/>
&gt;Now you're on the spot<br/>
&gt;Although curiosity has been hovering over you for a while, shame has been trying to reign it in as well<br/>
&gt;Can't dodge the subject now though<br/>
&gt;You look over the sizeable assortment of weapons they have in front of them<br/>
&gt;You recall the other day, when you'd flipped your lid at them, and they'd cowered at your anger<br/>
&gt;Well...in hindsight, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense to you</p><p>&gt;They are, after all, 'murder professionals'<br/>
&gt;Demonic assassins<br/>
&gt;Experienced combatants<br/>
&gt;Easily capable of laying a mere human low, even without weapons, as they'd reported time and time again<br/>
&gt;You were, without a doubt, bigger than them, but you weren't exactly Rambo</p><p>&gt;It's a weird thing to ask</p><p>&gt;Really weird</p><p>&gt;And extremely uncomfortable</p><p>&gt;But...</p><p>&gt;Why exactly would they be afraid of you when they could easily kill you before you even knew what hit you?</p><p>&gt;You can tell from the looks they exchange that they're already regretting having pressed the subject<br/>
&gt;Unfortunately you're both kind of stuck in the conversation now<br/>
&gt;Moxxie clears his throat and begins clicking his claws on the half-disassembled rifle in his lap</p><p>&gt;"Well, it's not like we don't get chewed out on the regular..."</p><p>&gt;Millie glances around and tightens her tail's grip ever-so-slightly</p><p>&gt;"Yeah..."<br/>
&gt;"But, that's just demons and sinners."</p><p>&gt;"We can deal with that all day."</p><p>&gt;"We DO deal with that all day."</p><p>&gt;They share a nervous chuckle before continuing</p><p>&gt;"It's, well, it's different when a clean soul is yelling at you."</p><p>&gt;...A 'clean soul'?<br/>
&gt;The two imps both fix you with a somewhat quizzical look</p><p>&gt;"You know, not a sinner. Just sort of a...good human."<br/>
&gt;"Someone who hasn't done anything wicked yet."</p><p>&gt;Millie gently grabs your sleeve and leans in, lightly bumping her nose against you</p><p>&gt;"I mean, you don't really smell like sin at all. A smidge of lust maybe."</p><p>&gt;Moxxie shoots a side-long glance your way with a dirty smirk as he resumes fussing over his weapon</p><p>&gt;"But like...the wrath from the other day is gone now. Right Sweetie?"</p><p>&gt;Moxxie nods</p><p>&gt;"Yeah, it wore off pretty quickly."</p><p>&gt;Both of them fidget slightly</p><p>&gt;"It's different, having a clean soul get angry with you. We get shouted at by other demons all the time, that's fine, but..."<br/>
&gt;"Besides being a good soul, you're still in your mortal body too, and we're imps. It's pretty obvious why we'd kind of want to stay on your good side, right?"<br/>
&gt;"It's natural."</p><p>&gt;Uhhhhhhh<br/>
&gt;No it isn't<br/>
&gt;Why would a couple of demons 'naturally' want to kiss up to a human?</p><p>&gt;Millie and Moxxie share yet another look, both suddenly looking rather distressed<br/>
&gt;Moxxie bites his lower lip for a moment before he speaks again</p><p>&gt;"I mean, do you really want to talk about religion? It's such a depressing subject..."</p><p>&gt;It is?<br/>
&gt;Moxxie scratches at the back of his neck<br/>
&gt;It's obvious he doesn't actually have an itch, he's just feeling weird</p><p>&gt;"So, I don't really know what your version of the book says..."</p><p>&gt;Millie's tail releases you and swishes about in distress as she looks over at her husband<br/>
&gt;She doesn't want to talk about this any more than he does</p><p>&gt;"...but, the way I heard the story, we, I mean, you know, US..."</p><p>&gt;He gestures broadly at himself and his wife, indicating imps as a whole</p><p>&gt;"They say that the original plan was for us to be part of The Garden. We were supposed to be your companions."</p><p>&gt;It takes you a moment to realize that they were referring to the whole human race</p><p>&gt;"We were meant to be...not pets, something like that though."<br/>
&gt;"But, well, you know how that worked out"</p><p>&gt;You admit that you don't<br/>
&gt;A look of sadness envelopes both of your friends' faces<br/>
&gt;Their tails droop down, the tips coming to rest just above the ground</p><p>&gt;"...we didn't make the cut. I guess they decided we just weren't good enough..."</p><p>&gt;The sentence hits you like a punch to the gut<br/>
&gt;What do you say to that?<br/>
&gt;You want to be outraged, but you don't know where to direct it</p><p>&gt;"They say all the wickedness only started when we arrived in Hell, and ended up in a never-ending rain of sinners..."</p><p>&gt;THAT'S their religion?<br/>
&gt;That their entire race is just a bunch of rejected first drafts who ended up in the compost heap when they didn't pass muster?<br/>
&gt;What the FUCK?!</p><p>&gt;"...but sometimes I wonder if maybe we were always evil..."</p><p>&gt;You can't imagine how they must feel<br/>
&gt;You can't imagine what it's like</p><p>&gt;"...and they could just tell that we'd been made wrong..."</p><p>&gt;Knowing for certain that someone made you, carefully and deliberately, from scratch<br/>
&gt;Made you for a specific purpose<br/>
&gt;And, when they'd finished you, as they looked you over, they said to themselves<br/>
&gt;"No, this really isn't my best work. I'll toss it and try again."<br/>
&gt;That has to be painful<br/>
&gt;The kind of pain that would form part of your core being, hounding you forever</p><p>&gt;"...and that's why we never saw The Garden."</p><p>&gt;You call bullshit<br/>
&gt;Unequivocally<br/>
&gt;Uncompromisingly<br/>
&gt;Beyond any shadow of a doubt<br/>
&gt;That is a-b-s-o-l-u-t-e BULLSHIT</p><p>&gt;Millie and Moxxie both stare at you in shock<br/>
&gt;This isn't the moment for a hug<br/>
&gt;You reach out to take both of their hands in an insistent grip<br/>
&gt;You're careful to split eye contact between the both of them as evenly as you can as you continue</p><p>&gt;You're deliberate and precise as you speak<br/>
&gt;You know nothing of theology<br/>
&gt;Nor of cosmology<br/>
&gt;You really don't know much of anything<br/>
&gt;But you know this: the both of them are very dear to you<br/>
&gt;and anyone</p><p>&gt;ANYONE</p><p>&gt;Who says that they're somehow inherently unworthy...<br/>
&gt;Well, here's hoping that they choke on those words until they're blue in the face<br/>
&gt;Anyone who can't see what you see in them must have deliberately blinded themselves<br/>
&gt;Screw them and every dumb thought that ever came out of their head</p><p>&gt;The both of them gawk at you for a moment<br/>
&gt;Then the corner of Moxxie's mouth rises</p><p>&gt;"Yeah, you know what, FUCK THEM!"</p><p>&gt;Millie releases you to clap both of her hands over her mouth in a grandiose display of shock<br/>
&gt;She giggles</p><p>&gt;"Yeah, fuck 'em! And the ship they came in on too!"</p><p>&gt;She throws the middle fingers of both hands skyward<br/>
&gt;You mimic the gesture with a laugh<br/>
&gt;Old habits would drive you to suggest that they could go straight to Hell, but you don't want them and their like polluting your friends' streets<br/>
&gt;No, they can leap right into the void, head first</p><p>&gt;The three of you all lean back into your chairs and let the sounds and smells of your own dumpy little backlot of a garden relieve the day's stress</p><p>&gt;It may not have been created in perfection</p><p>&gt;It may not be gilded, or trimmed with silk, or dressed in any sort of majesty or finery</p><p>&gt;It's not even especially well-lit, and the weather can really suck when it wants to</p><p>&gt;But you like your crappy little slice of paradise</p>
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